


The Guest

by nothingeverlost



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-18 20:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2361080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry's tired of Hook being around all the time.  He wants to stay with his Grandpa and Belle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Though Emma/Hook is a relationship in this, this isn't a fic if you like that pairing.

He was waiting on the front steps when they came home from dinner, a duffle bag on one side of him and his backpack on the other. His gameboy was on his lap but the screen didn’t seem to be on.

"Henry? Does Emma know you’re here?" Belle glanced at her husband, who was keeping his expression neutral but she could see the flicker of emotion in his eyes.

"She’s out to dinner with Killian." Henry stood to make room for them to climb the steps. "He spent the night again last night."

"Oh." Gold unlocked the front door before picking up the duffle bag. There was no reason they couldn’t at least continue the conversation in comfort.  
"Come inside, sweetheart, and we’ll make some cocoa. Did you have dinner?" Belle asked.

"I wanted to know… I thought maybe I could stay here for a little while? Grams and Gramps have Neal, and I know my mom would like me to move back to my old room but I can’t. And I really don’t want to share space with Killian." Henry slung his bag over his shoulder. "I miss my dad."

"I miss him too." Gold’s eyes closed briefly. The pain hadn’t gotten any easier to carry in the last months.

"I’ll text your mom and let her know you’re staying for the night. We’ll have to talk about anything more." Belle’s own heart ached for the boy she’d dreamed about years ago and the man that had been her friend. It ached more for her husband and his grandson. "Henry, why don’t you help your grandpa make the cocoa? You know where to find the cinnamon. I’ll go make up the bed in the guest room."

"Did you ever make cocoa when my dad was a kid?" Henry asked as he leaned against the counter, watching Gold whisk together the milk, honey, vanilla, and chocolate.

"It was a luxury we couldn’t afford, but in the spring there was milk from the sheep, and I warmed that up for him in the evenings. Sometimes there was a little honey to sweeten it." Gold adjusted the temperature when it began to boil. "We’ll need three mugs."

"I don’t have to stay, if you don’t want me to, you know. I just… I don’t like being in the house when Killian’s there. He tells me stories about my dad sometimes, and I don’t know if they’re real or not. Sometimes they don’t sound like him. And sometimes he says things, like about cheating, that I know my dad wouldn’t agree with." When the cocoa was poured Henry sprinkled the cinnamon on top.

"You’re welcome here anytime, lad. I’ll speak with Emma in the morning, if it’s what you want."

"It is," Henry said with a frown. "I love my mom, but…"

"No one would think otherwise." Belle came into the room and rested a hand on Henry’s shoulder. "Emma knows you love her. Nothing changes that."

"I don’t want to hurt her." Henry stirred his cocoa absently as they settled at the kitchen table.

"She doesn’t want you hurt either. You’e not abandoning her, Henry. You’re spending time with family." Belle reached across the table to squeeze her husband’s hand. 

"It’s about time I told you more about your father. It’s not easy, but it’s something you deserve."

"I’d like that." The small smile from Henry was payment against the ache of remembering his boy. The two people sitting at the table with him were the two people that he would do anything for.

"Tomorrow," Gold promised.


	2. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry's starting to get comfortable in the house

"I thought you might like this on the wall." Belle was careful to knock on the bedroom door and wait for Henry’s answer before entering with a rolled up piece of paper in her hand. It had been three days, and though Emma was understandably upset it had been agreed that it was in Henry’s best interest to stay where he was the most comfortable. Belle wanted the room to be a space just for Henry, no matter how long he chose to stay. It felt too impersonal as it was, more Rumple than Henry.

"What’s that?" Text books were stacked on the floor next to the desk where Henry was working.

"I found it in Rumple’s back room at the shop. It’s a map." She unrolled it carefully; the paper was yellowed with age at the edges.  
"It’s not from here." Henry abandoned his homework out of curiosity, but soon grew more animated when he realized what he was looking at. "The Enchanted Forest. Grams’ and gramps’ castle. My mom was born there. And this must be the mines where Leroy and his brothers worked. Where’s grandpa’s castle?"

"It wouldn’t do to have that on a map. Think of all the traveling salesmen I’d have to turn into frogs if they knew how to find me so easily. I much preferred to be the one to do the finding." Gold, just home from the shop, stood in the bedroom doorway.

"You just liked to impress people with your tricks, like showing up in a room that was completely locked." Belle smiled at him and held out her hand. "There’s a picture of your grandpa in the dictionary next to ‘dramatic entrance’ Henry."

"No one can ever say I don’t make a lasting impression." When Gold would have kissed Belle’s cheek, Belle turned so their lips touched instead. Henry rolled his eyes.

"How come everyone thinks kissing is so great? I kissed Ava and it didn’t seem any different than shaking hands. Sometimes mom and Killian kiss for a long time and it seems like that would get boring."

"It is boring when it’s not with the right person. When there isn’t…" Belle paused.

"Attraction," Gold filled in. He glanced sideways at Belle. "Sometimes love, but sometimes it’s different than that. People don’t always make the best decisions when they’re thinking about s… kissing."

"You were going to say sex, weren’t you? It’s okay, I know all about that. My memories of the other schools I went to include sex ed classes. I know mom and dad did it. And mom and Killian do it now. And you and Belle…"

"I think it’s time to head down and start dinner," Gold interjected. "I’ll let you two finish up whatever you were doing."

Belle laughed when he was gone. ”I know you can ask your mom things, but if you ever have questions you can ask me. Or Rumple, but he might need a little warning next time.”

"I’d rather ask you about the map. It’s neat."

"Let’s tack it to the wall so you can see the whole thing and I’ll answer as much as I can."


	3. Supper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold and Henry discuss old traditions

“Did my dad celebrate Halloween?” Belle has a dozen pumpkins on the kitchen table, ready to be turned into pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, and pumpkin soup this week. Henry had never heard of using pumpkin for anything other than carving scary faces. Pumpkin for cooking, so far as he knew, came from a can.

“I don’t know what traditions he picked up in this world. We don’t have Halloween in our world, at least not quite the same way.” It was easier to answer Henry’s questions when he had something to do with his hands. Gold started the tea kettle. Afternoon tea (for himself and sometimes Belle) and cocoa (for Henry) was becoming something of a tradition.

“I bet he didn’t go trick or treating.” Henry had mentioned a few days before that he was too old to get dressed up and go out for candy. Gold was just glad that he was apparently too young to ask about going to parties. 

“Some of the village children would go from door to door collecting food that would be used to make a large pot of stew.” Bae had never joined in with the collecting or the feast afterward. His boy had always shrugged and said that he wasn’t interested, but he had seen his boy watching through the windows. “Bae and I always had a dumb supper.”

“You pretended to be dumb?” Henry picked out a thick clay mug in green that was his favorite and a china tea cup, setting them both on the counter.

“Dumb, like the inability to speak, rather than the way it’s usually used, when people speak far too much and say too little,” Gold clarified.

“So you didn’t talk at all?” Their own dinners were rarely silent, at least not after the first few nights. Henry and Belle both usually had stories to tell about their day.

“A dumb supper is a time of reverence, to remember those that have passed. To listen. Places are set for people who have died.” They’d sat a place every year for Milah; he hadn’t known then what a lie it was. A boy needed a mother, though, and he’d wanted his son to have some positive associations of his mother even if it was pretty stories about a woman who hadn’t wanted to leave him. Who was watching over him. “We would write a letter every year and burn it in the fire when the meal was over. I told Bae that the ashes could reach the heavens.”

“Could we do that? Have a dumb supper and set out a place for my dad? And maybe for Graham too? I’d like to write him a letter about things.” Henry’s eagerness reminded him so vividly of Bae as a boy. Gold had a hard time working past the knot in his throat and nodded.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. I’d like to set a place for my mom too.” Belle had, not surprisingly, a stack of books in her hand. Cookbooks this time, from the looks of it. Gold was grateful for her timing. “You and I could work out the menu together, Henry.”

“If my mom’s not doing anything, would it be okay, I mean I don’t have to…”

“Emma is always welcome here, Henry. There’s always room at the table, okay?” Belle rested her hand on Henry’s shoulder. Henry nodded.

“And we can have pie, right? My dad liked pie.” Henry looked at the pumpkins on the table.

“We can have pie,” Belle promised. She reached past Henry to squeeze Gold’s hand. “And we’ll make sure there’s a fire to burn our letters in. It’s a good tradition to continue. I think your dad would like it.”

“He would,” Gold agreed with a nodded. He hoped it was true.


	4. Granny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What should I call you?

"It’s okay to be angry at her right now, Henry. It doesn’t mean you don’t love her. It’s the circumstances you don’t love." Henry nodded, though she could tell it was still bothering him. Maybe it would be a good idea for him to see Archie again. Too many people were too connected to everything that was going on. He needed someone to listen to just him.

"What should I call you?" Henry asked unexpectedly. Belle was washing the dishes while Henry dried. There wasn’t much more than their mugs, but she’d made some popcorn, and even though Henry had said he wasn’t hungry he’d eaten most of it.

"What would you like to call me, sweetheart?" Belle asked. Henry had been with them for two full nights, not counting the night he’d shown up. So far he’d called her Belle.

"I guess Belle makes the most sense. I have a grams and gramps, and Mr. Gold is grandpa which sort of means…"

"Grandma." Belle snorted, and tried to bite her tongue, but she couldn’t keep from laughing. She even dropped the mug she’d been washing, she was laughing so hard. Hopefully it didn’t break.

"Belle, is everything alright?" It was a mere seconds before Rumple appeared in the doorway.

"Granny," she managed to spit out between snorts of laughter.

"Something to do with Mrs. Lucas?" a puzzled Rumple asked.

"No, she’s…" But Henry was laughing too, the first time since he’d moved in. He pointed at Belle. "G’ma."

Belle had to close her eyes and take a few breaths before she could answer coherently. ”I’m a grandma.”

"I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a grandma look so beautiful." Gold smiled.

"Granny Belle," Henry said before he and Belle dissolved into laughter again.


	5. Learning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle's not having it anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a convo about the crap education Henry is getting and this happened.

“This is the last straw, Rumple. I’m not having it anymore.” Belle came storming out of Henry’s room, a book in one hand and papers in the other. It was rare for her to be in the space that had become Henry’s sanctum since he’d moved in, but Henry was having his Saturday morning breakfast at Granny’s with Emma, and Belle was cleaning.

“What?” Rum turned off the vacuum. “Has Henry done something? I’m sorry but…”

“Not Henry.” Belle closed her eyes and took a calming breath. “Of course it isn’t him, he’s far less trouble then you are, Rumple, and he can stay here until he’s ready for college so far as I’m concerned. That is if he can even hope to get into college considering this - this ridiculousness.”

“Belle, sweetheart, I’m having trouble following. Why don’t we sit down and you can explain the problem to me?” When she gestured with her hands again a paper fell to the floor. He picked it up; it appeared to be a copy of a test Henry had taken recently.

“No, you have to see this for yourself.” She vanished again into Henry’s room and he didn’t have a choice but to follow. In the last six weeks the space had lost the look of ‘guest room’ and taken on Henry’s personality. In addition the the map Belle had given him and the school things there were pictures of him with each of his parents, as well as one of his grandparents with their baby and one of him and Belle. There were comic books on the nightstand and drawings tacked onto the wall. The boy, unbenounced to him, seemed to have inherited his paternal grandmother’s talent at drawing. The Book had a place of prominence on his desk. Everything seemed the same as it had been the day before. Perhaps that was the problem. 

“Have you looked at these books?” Belle asked.

“Not very closely, no.” The only history Henry had asked him about was the personal kind, about his father and the world he’d grown up in. Rum spent very little time considering the world Storybrooke happened to exist in, and the only time Henry had asked for homework help it had been math.

“They’re all published before 1983. The English book doesn’t even acknowledge the internet, let alone how to do citations for research from internet sources. The maps in here still list the USSR as being a country. Do you know how many countries have been formed since 1983? And they’re not teaching sex education. I called the school for a syllabus and talked to the secretary, who was rather helpful. Apparently you used to buy herbs from her and paid well. The curriculum is even more outdated than I thought.” She was pacing the room, touching books as she talked about them. Caressing the spines a little, too, as if to let them know it wasn’t their fault they were out of date.

“Isn’t he a little young to learn about sex? He’s only twelve.” It was not a conversation he was comfortable having. Maybe Charming would be a good candidate. Henry’s other grandfather was at least talking to him, which was more than he could say about Snow. 

“It’s not just sex, it’s learning about your own body, and how people are different, and about consent. It’s about gender and understanding your own identity. And the teen pregnancy rates are higher in places where it’s not taught in school. I don’t know about you but I’m not ready to be a great grandma.” She went easily when Rum caught her hand and pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. “How is he going to fit into the world if he isn’t learning about it?”

“Is he really in this world? Storybrooke is more of our world than this one.” He hoped to make her feel better, but it seemed that he’d found the very worst thing to say.

“Do you know what they’re learning about our world, Rumple? There’s no books, of course, but someone is teaching them a very Enchanted Forest centric and whitewashed version of things.” Belle’s eyes narrowed. It was not the expression that worried him the most; the wide eyed look of disappointment and sadness was the one that could destroy him in a second. But it was not a good sign. “They’re learning that the giants provoked war and we were only protecting ourselves in killing them all. They are being told that all ogres are monsters, almost akin to zombies, and nothing about the humans that have fed into the ogre war. They’re learning nothing about dwarves or gnomes or genies or anything positive about giants. It’s not right.”

“We can talk to him, fill in some of the gaps.” If anyone had a good grasp on history it was him. Only the Blue Fairy knew more from first hand experience than himself.

“I think we should take him out of that school. I thought about extra lessons but it’s an uphill battle to fight some of the things he’s being taught. Wait until you read the essay he wrote last week on American history. It’s filled with fairytales from this world about cherry trees and wooden teeth, and something about a giant blue ox.”

“Belle, sweetheart, his teacher is Snow White.” Who had taught the same class for twenty-eight years, which might say something about her educational standards. “Besides he needs an education and Storybrooke only has one option. Unless you were thinking of a school somewhere else?”

“We could find a different school for him but I don’t want him to think we don’t want him here. And he would miss his mom even more if he didn’t have his Saturday mornings with her, even if we decided to move with him.” Belle shook her head, stacking the books neatly on the edge of the desk while glancing at the trash can as if to warn them about their future. “Henry’s education is more important than hurting Snow’s feelings, and it doesn’t change her being his grandmother if he’s not in her class. She can’t plan on following him through every grade, that’s just weird. I have a plan, though, but I need your help.”

“Whatever is best for you you and the lad, Belle, is what I want.” There were times when moving away didn’t seem like the worst idea, though Belle was right about Henry needing Hook free time with his mom.”

“I want to homeschool him. Or rather library school him, because that means he has one space dedicated to learning, and I can still help other people. You can do math because you’re better at that, and work on him with Enchanted Forest history. Maybe if we talk to Jefferson Grace could do her work with him as well, because friendship is important and he can’t be happy with some of the things they’re saying about Wonderland at their school. Do you think Jefferson could teach them sewing?”

“Not unless you think Henry needs to take up haberdashery. And caution Henry against drinking any tea offered to him.” Company for the lad wouldn’t be a bad idea. His father had gone too many years without close friends, and knowing how many years Henry had been without friends as well made his heart ache. “It’s a lot of work though, sweetheart, and a battle with Snow and probably Emma. And I’m sure Regina will have a few words to say as well.”

“They can say whatever they want, I think Henry deserves his best shot and that means a real education. I’m worried about him, Rumple.”

“He’s lucky to have you in his corner. And so am I.” He tugged her close, pulling her into a hag. “I will help in any way you want. I might even enjoy talking to his teacher.”

“I need to do more research first. And we need to talk to Henry about it. Maybe he doesn’t want me for a teacher.” Belle chewed on her lower lip.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you as a teacher.” Rum squeezed her shoulder. “You can be my teacher anytime, Mrs. Gold.”

“You would be in trouble all the time, I’m sure. I’d have to have a time out corner just for you.” Belle laughed, the tension in her shoulders relaxing.

“I’m sure you could find a way to keep me interested in learning. it’s just a question of what the subject is.” Rum grinned.

“You’re incorrigible, Rumpelstiltskin.” Belle took his hand and led him down the stairs. She had some research to do and he could help her.


End file.
